Northgate Peaks, Firepit Knoll, Lambs Knoll

I left the homestead for the Kolob Terrace Road the day after summiting Nippletop and a few other interesting Zion summits. Shoulda checked my gas before leaving though 'cause that road is darn steep and before I knew it I had less than a quarter tank and I anxiously began wondering if I would have to turn around before doing anything at all. I had a few destinations in mind for the day, all of them spread up and down the road in various locations. The Northgate Peaks (both east and west) were a top priority, located farthest up the road. I'd visit them first. I coasted when I could, the engine runnin' on high hopes and positive vibrations. 

With great luck and much felicity, I managed to make it to my desired location, making a right and pulling into the dirt parking area for the Wildcat Canyon Trailhead. A fairly popular spot, the trailhead serves as a starting point for a wide variety of interesting Zion backcountry locations, the Subway and North and South Guardian Angels among the more notable spots. I found a parking space, grabbed my pack, and then set off down the trail, the air crisp and cool, the ground soft and muddy from snowmelt, the pines fresh and green, the sky an extraordinary blue. 

On the Wildcat Canyon Trail

I passed a junction with the Hop Valley Trail, turning right not long afterwards towards the Northgate Peaks Viewpoint. So far, I hadn't seen a single soul all day. West Northgate Peak loomed off to my right, a delight to the eyes. I soon left the trail for a faint use path to gain its north ridge, although it was pretty obvious where to go. I hiked diagonally down a fairly steep slope, angling towards the base of the peak's north ridge. I started on the sandstone slabs, slowly ascending the steep ridge, careful to avoid the lingering patches of snow and ice.

West Northgate Peak

Headin' up the north ridge

Almost to the summit, East Northgate Peak visible left

I encountered nothing worse than fairly steep class 2 on my way up, deciding to linger a tad to the east when I could. Going straight up the thing would provide less exposure, but it was a bit more steep and I always avoid steep when I darn well can avoid it so I stayed slightly to the east, following a gentle ramp to the base of the final summit push. A brief session on the ol' outdoor stairmaster later and I had made it to the expansive summit, impeccable views in all four cardinal directions.

North Guardian Angel loomed to the south, its steep east ridge scary yet tempting. Pine Valley Peak and Pocket Mesa stood tall in the northwest, their white sandstone bodies in stark contrast with the sea of green that surrounded them. To the east was a mixture of canyons, peaks, hoodoos and mesas, all of them in the Zion backcountry. And of course, sitting right next to me, was East Northgate Peak, a little shorter but still interesting nonetheless. I stayed for a few minutes on the summit, soaking in the views and the sun, shedding layers, drinking water, stuff like that. Once I'd had my fill I donned my pack and set off down the mountain. 

Pine Valley Peak left, Pocket Mesa right

Zion Backcountry, East Northgate Peak center left

North Guardian Angel

Heading back down...

I encountered three spring breakers on my way down. They were taking a break on one of the steeper sections of the north ridge, dressed in cotton t-shirts and shorts and Vans and running shoes, their faces wearing an expression hinting that they didn't really know what they were doing. One of them asked if I had made it to the summit, and I explained how I got there and what to expect. They nodded and thanked me and I wished them well and they said "you too" and then I continued on down, sliding through the snow just for fun. I climbed back up the fairly steep slope I'd descended earlier, picked up the main trail, and followed it all the way to the Viewpoint. 

I passed a couple of people on my way there, noticing a few others taking pictures of West Northgate Peak. The three spring breakers were still in the same spot I'd left them, most likely debating whether or not to turn around. Seems like I wasn't done with their ilk yet, for not long after I spotted them on the ridge I got stuck behind another group of spring breakers, these folks appearing much better prepared with packs and water and a phone with a map on it. I asked if they were going to East Northgate Peak and they said yes and then I asked if they were doing North Guardian Angel as well and they said "What is that?" and that about told me all I needed to know. We followed a very well-worn use trail from the Viewpoint, the spring breakers trying to follow the GPS on their phone. We walked right by the use trail for the summit and continued to the peak's super steep west face. I decided to directly ascend the face, wishing them well and they telling me "good luck." They continued wandering around the west face of the peak, trying to find a way to the top. When I was about halfway up, I looked down and saw that they were following me. Guess they gave up on the ol' GPS. 

The steep west face of East Northgate Peak

I quickly reached the summit, the views, in my opinion, slightly better than those on West Northgate Peak. I could see both North and South Guardian Angels, their summits beautiful and beckoning. The Zion backcountry stretched out before me, the landscape rugged and wild. I could see the descent into the famous Subway, the canyon steep and precipitous. I took some photos, chewed on a PB&J, and then left the summit to an open area just to the south, laying down in the dirt and sand and soaking in the view. The spring breakers eventually made it to the top, wandering a bit farther east to partake in a celebratory summit lunch. After about 10 minutes I got up, gathered my things, and then made my way back, following the use trail this time instead of descending the steep west face.

West Northgate left, Pine Valley Peak right

Headin' down the use trail...

A lot more people were out and about now. I passed a few parties on my way back to the parking lot, some there just for the day, some with their kids, and others dressed in sun hoodies and nylon pants and huge backpacks and trekking poles and looking very serious. I got back to the car, started 'er up, and then coasted most of the way down to my second destination, no longer worried much about gas. 

The next spot on the itinerary was Firepit Knoll, an old cinder cone just northeast of the Hop Valley trailhead. I found a pullout in the road and started walking, leaving behind my pack and water. There was a dirt road that I coulda taken, but I didn't for whatever reason. Instead, I bushwhacked through prickly desert flora on my way over to the west face of the Knoll, ripping a small hole in my shirt. Dang it. Shoulda just taken the road.

Firepit Knoll

Loose

Nearing the rim

I weaved through the brush, crossing the road at one point and then immediately began ascending the steep, loose western face. Not a whole lotta brush anymore, but the going was slow. I left a small forest of trees and entered the brush once again, all of it about chest-high. I zig-zagged up animal trails, approaching the rim. So far, the views were actually pretty good, particularly of Red Butte and the snow-dusted Pine Valley Mountains. Up and up I went, weaving in and around pokey bushes until finally gaining the rim. I could see the high point of the rim to the north, the grassy crater a lot bigger than I expected. The thing really did look like a big ol' fire pit after all. An aptly named summit indeed.

Walking along the rim, bobbing in and out of the brush, I eventually reached the summit, a cairn made out of volcanic rocks marking the highpoint. Semi-brushy views in all directions, not a whole lot going on. I stayed for roughly 2 minutes before retracing my steps off the mountain, glad I checked it out but fixed with the idea to never come back.

Red Butte and Pine Valley Mountains

Summit Cairn

It was a lot easier on the way down. So much so that I slipped and landed on my butt and got a small boo boo on my left wrist. Oh well. Such things happen on old cinder cones. I entered the trees, found the dirt road, and then took the road the rest of the way back to the car. Shoulda just taken that thing on the way it; woulda saved me a whole lotta trouble. 

I considered ascending Spendlove Knoll since it was directly to my left, but decided to save it for later. Instead, I continued on down to my last planned summit of the day: Lambs Knoll. I coasted down the road, pulling into the fairly crowded parking lot. I chugged some water and then set off on the trail, entering a dry wash and noticing several climbers out and about, some of them just little kids no older than seven. 

I followed a very well-worn use trail up a drainage, passing a few climbers who were making their way back down. Not long afterwards, I reached a saddle of sorts and realized I had gone the wrong way. Rats. The summit was off to my left, and unless I wanted to free-solo some sketchy lookin' class 5, I wasn't gonna get up there. So I turned around and went back down a ways before noticing my mistake, taking a less noticeable but still obvious use trail that wrapped around to the south. 

Heading up the drainage

The summit was now to my right, looking much more tame. The use trail eventually disintegrated into the ether, leaving me to wander through a field of aromatic sagebrush. I made my way to another saddle, ascended some class 2 slabs, and then angled north towards the summit. I soon caught sight of it, a red, pointy lookin' thing with a nice class 3 crack leading to the top. I ascended this brief class 3 section, the exposure minimal. 

Lambs Knoll summit

Some minor class 3

Once atop the summit I dropped my pack, sat on the slabs and absorbed the 360° views. These were, without a doubt, the best I'd seen all day. I spent nearly half an hour on the summit, gazing out at the scenery, noting the peaks I'd climbed earlier in the day and a few others I'd like to climb in the future. And then I found a flat spot, put the ol' hat over my head and took a quick snooze, the surrounding temperature feeling exactly like a cozy, warm blanket. 

Southeast

Southwest

West(ish)

Northeast(ish)

East

I drank the last of my water which meant it was time to head back. I retraced my steps, picked up the use path, entered the drainage, and got back on the trail. Back in the car, back on the road, coasting all the way down to the gas station. I'm not sure what kind of tank I have, but the thing drank up 14½ gallons. Very thirsty. Next time I'll definitely check that before setting off on another adventure.  

And that about wraps up the day. It was a lot more mellow than the day prior, mostly serving as a reconnaissance for routes to additional peaks, mostly North and South Guardian Angels. Boy oh boy, thems were some good lookin' mountains. I'll most likely attempt them sometime in the future. In the meantime, just gotta wait for the snow to melt. 

Nippletop, Refrigerator Peak, Majestic Spur, Little Majestic

The days flew on by and before I knew it the weekend had appeared and it caught me unawares and sprang up and smacked me in the face. Ahh, what to do, what to do. Had to do something...but what? Most folks I've grown acquainted with this past week opted to go rock climbing somewhere. I ain't no climber, so I declined the invitation. Instead, me and another coworker decided to check out some interesting peaks within Zion National Park. Sounded like a cool, straightforward idea. So a couple of days ago, on the 7th, the two of us made the drive to the park with no concrete plans for the day, just a bunch of loosely scattered ideas and a hankering to climb at least one interesting peak: Nippletop.

Ahh yes, Nippletop. I had known about Nippletop for a long time, always making note of its pointy summit each time the fam and I drove into the park from the east. You can't miss it; it's definitely one of the more distinct peaks in the area. Ever since I'd first seen it I've wanted to climb it, and as soon as my coworker learned of its existence he wished to climb it as well. So it was settled; we were gonna climb it. How terribly exciting! 

Up the road and on through the tunnel we went, winding up the curves until finding a pullout somewhat close to the base of Nippeltop. We got out, threw on some layers, and then left the road and entered a dry wash. From there we found a way up to the base of Nippletop's north ridge, staying slightly to the west to avoid a large fissure and much steeper terrain. We zig-zagged up steep sandstone slabs, stopping every now and then to catch our breath. 

We eventually crossed the fissure when it was most easy to do so, now directly ascending the middle of the north ridge. A few steep minutes later and we had reached the top of the ridge, now walking on terrain that was much more agreeable to our quads and calves. We took a break, admiring the excellent views of the rugged slickrock terrain that surrounded us. 

Navigation from this point onward was very straightforward; we simply walked on the ridge towards our destination. Continuing along the ridge, we were soon gifted with a gorgeous view of Nippletop and the rest of the route we had left to travel. The brief class 3 section to gain the mesa rim looked a bit scary from far away, but the closer we got to it the more reasonable it became. We were soon underneath it, deciding to ditch an obvious use trail to do some unnecessary scrambling 'cause, why not? We directly ascended the thing, pulling an awkward move at one point that definitely got the adrenal glands nice and happy. Who needs caffeine? A little exposure in the morning will wake you up in no time! 

Class 3 section

Fun, avoidable scambling

Once we had gained the mesa rim, all that was left was a nice and simple walk on the "breast" towards the "nipple." Easy traveling on a gentle grade awaited us, and soon we had made it to the base of the summit block. A super short and simple class 3 scramble later and we had finally reached the top of the nipple. At long last...

The views from the summit of Nippletop were some of the best I've ever seen from any peak. Panoramic, 360 degrees, all overlooking a vast, rugged landscape that melts the mind and tugs the soul. High desert, colorful rocks, a spattering of trees. Reds and whites and greens and the crystal clear blue of the endless sky. Canyons, divots, hoodoos, peaks and mesas galore, too many to explore, too many to know. We sat on the summit for a good long while, our eyes inhaling the spectacular scenery, our mouths producing eloquent words such as "sweet" and "wow" and "yep." The wind kicked up, we donned more layers, hunkered down, and remained where we were, our eyes scanning the landscape, too many things to see, too many things to perceive. 

But we had to leave at some point, so we said goodbye to the nipple and retraced our steps off the breast. We took a much easier and safer route for the descent, avoiding the unnecessary stuff we ascended on the way up. Down the ridge, down the slickrock, back in the wash, back in the car. It wasn't even noon yet. Still had a whole day ahead of us. Ahh, what to do...what to do...

I mentioned some other peaks we could check out, which prompted a conversation about entering the park and taking the tram and seeing the sights and stuff and such. So we drove on down the road, back through the tunnel and out to the visitor center, where it took almost half an hour to find a place to park. Good lord. That was no fun at all. And then we crammed ourselves on a jam-packed tram and the people were loud and laughing and everyone smelled like sunscreen, shampoo and cologne and people got on and off and it was like we were on the metro in downtown Los Angeles. Very jarring. A complete and polar opposite vibration from that felt on Nippletop.

And so we got off at stop six and I ate the rest of my food and then we got on the trail for Angels Landing and my coworker talked about how he used to run up this trail every day when he worked at the lodge and people were going up and down and down and up at all times, people of all walks of life, people blasting music, people dressed in gym clothes, people dressed in street clothes, dudes walking shirtless in the sun and ladies clad in tight fitting sports bras and spandex. And we ascended the switchbacks and "Walter's Wiggles" and we made it to Scout's Lookout and continued on the West Rim Trail, finding a spot in the sun to stop and rest and nap for a bit. And we dozed in the sun and got good and tan and we stayed there for a while, listening to the hum of all the folks making the trek to Angels Landing.

Rested, recharged, energized and ready to rock and roll, we carried on with our walk, following the West Rim Trail as it made its way farther away from the hullabaloo down below. And we left the trail at some point and followed a noticeable use path through slickrock and sand to a little prominence that I recognized as Refrigerator Peak. And we climbed it fairly quickly, reaching a well-worn high point that had a bunch of names etched into the sandstone. And a group of young spring breakers had followed us and they reached the summit not too long after we did, so we left them to their devices and we made our way back down, descending the steep western face back to the West Rim Trail. 

Looking back at the ridge to Refrigerator Peak

View from Refrigerator Peak

Not entirely done for the day, we decided to hit up two more peaks: Majestic Spur and Little Majestic. These two unassuming knobs were clearly visible from the trail and we figured we'd might as well check them out while we had the chance. 

So we left the trail once again, walking on a nice and wide and flat slickrock highway, heading south and then west towards the two peaks. We followed a use trail which quickly disappeared, traveling up and out of a tiny dry wash, through manzanita and cactus, careful not to disturb the occasional patch of cryptobiotic soil.

Majestic Spur left, Little Majestic right

We decided to climb Majestic Spur first, mostly 'cause it looked really cool. Steep, pointy, covered in trees—what's not to love? So we made our way to its slanted, slick base and found a steep, slippery way to its summit. A lot of loose rock, a wee bit of route finding, but nothing too bad. A short scamper up a loose slope and we were on the pointy summit in no time. 

Majestic Spur Summit

Lookin' southeast

Lookin' northeast

Splendid views of the Zion backcountry spread out before us, various rugged peaks looming in the distance. We had both run out of food and were running low on water by this point, so my coworker whipped out some expired electrolyte powder that was given away for free at work and we poured it into our water bottles and shook 'em up good and drank our fill, the taste mild and unassuming. And then we retraced our steps off Majestic Spur and hopped on over to Little Majestic, the last peak of the day. 

A swift walk up easy class 2 slabs brought us to the unremarkable summit nice and quick, the views exactly the same as those found on Majestic Spur. Personally, I found Majestic Spur to be far more interesting and would simply skip Little Majestic altogether (unless you really wanna see what's up there for some reason). And so we sat for a little bit, drank more of our expired electrolyte mix, and then slowly made our way off the summit back to the West Rim Trail.

Majestic Spur as seen from Little Majestic summit

Heading back...

We took a much easier route on the way back, traveling in a large slickrock bowl that we somehow completely missed on our way up. And the bowl led to the highway, and the highway to the trail, and the trail to the tram. Much less people out and about now, the sun going down, the walls turning bright orange, the temps cooling off, night approaching, the day coming to a close. We left the trail, got on a tram, this one nearly empty. And we got off at the visitor center and found the car in the now nearly vacant parking lot, started 'er up and drove on out of there.

It had been a great day on some great peaks, a tiny sample of what Zion has to offer. My curiosity had been piqued, so much so that I drove back into the park the very next day to check out even more peaks. But that's a story for another time. 

Gettin' Sunburnt on Tecuya Mountain

 02/26/26

I was quite sore in the morning. The previous day's speed march up Montecito Peak and Gaviota Peak really did a number on my already tired legs, prompting my brain to suggest a day's worth of total sloth. But there's always something to do and I was darn well gonna do it so I decided to set off on another adventure, defying my body's best interests.

Liam picked me up at my Uncle's place, the two of us driving down into Ventura to meet up with Daniel. We switched cars, Daniel driving up Highway 126 to the I-5, bound for good ol' Frazier Park. When we arrived at said destination we drove straight through town, taking note of various points of interest. Ahh yes, there's Big John's. And over there is the Ace Hardware store. Caveman Cavey's? Oh yeah. Real good pizza right there. This fantastic sightseeing tour lasted until we reached Fire Station 23, where we made a right onto West End Drive, parking next to the closed gate. We got out, looked around, and then immediately began walking, 

Our goal, Tecuya Mountain, rose ahead of us somewhere. Like the day before, I had done absolutely zero research on this mountain; all I knew was that you could drive to the top, but who wants to do that? Plus it was still technically winter, so all the gates were closed anyway so even if we wanted to drive up to the top we couldn't. That left us with walking, and walk we did, bringing nothing but the clothes on our backs and the shoes on our feet. No water, no hat, no sunscreen. Yep. We was gonna get burnt all right.

We followed the road, making a slight left at one point. Liam commented on how dead the place looked. Daniel sarcastically said how awesome it was. The two of them were hiking up in leather cowboy boots, a likely reason for these disconsolate remarks. With tule fog blowing up from Lebec, the breeze light and the sun happy we pressed on, the road narrowing the farther we went. We hit a metal fixture of sorts. Crossed it. No more road. Just a single track path now, dirt bike tracks visible in the mud, patchy snow in the shade, soft green grass under the trees. Only one way to go. Onward and upward. 

We took a few breaks, removed our shirts. Daniel discovered that wiping snow on the chest and back was actually quite pleasant. We all did this for a while, walking uphill, wiping snow on our skin, the UV rays hitting hard, a slight burn beginning to materialize. I put my shirt back on. Didn't wanna damage my skin again. Been there, done that. Too bad I didn't have a shirt for my face. Oh well.

We hit a junction, made a hard right up a steep ridge and followed it the rest of the way to the summit. A little slip here, an achin' leg there. We each took turns leading the pack, Daniel removing his pants at some point. "Too tight" he said. Couldn't get enough movement apparently. And so he walked on up the mountain in nothing but cowboy boots and underwear, his pants and shirt slung over his shoulders like a damsel in distress.

After a particularly steep section we stopped hiking and sat on down and rested a bit, the sun slowly cooking our skin, the surrounding landscape coming into view. Frazier Mountain rose to the south, its northern flank still covered with a fair amount of sparkly snow. Off to the southwest sat Lockwood Valley, Thorn Point and Company visible in the distance. And to the southeast sprawled Frazier Park, the buildings tiny, the I-5 a small line cutting across the land. Good views, good sky. Couldn't stay there too long though. Had a mountain to climb. So we got up, stretched the legs, and pressed on, the summit soon coming into view. 

Tecuya Mountain Summit

Cool summit art

I tried carrying Daniel up the final push to the summit. I probably made it 50ft before giving up. Very embarrassing. I'd have to redeem myself later. While this was going on, Liam had taken the liberty of removing his trousers, preferring to hike in his running shorts. What a strange sight we must have been reaching that summit. Good thing we were the only ones there. 

The views at the top were pretty good to say the least, good enough that even Liam and Daniel had positive things to say about them. "Yeah, I guess it's alright." "Yep." "Pretty good." Stuff like that. Mt. Pinos and Company rose to the west, still covered in snow, still lookin' great as always. San Emigdio Mountain could be seen hiding in the distance, Antimony Peak a small forested bump bracing the tule fog pouring in from the north. Frazier Park looked smaller than ever, the Flying J truck stop a tiny, unassuming cube with even smaller cubes spread out around it. We sat down on a log and reaped the benefits of our labor, Liam and Daniel finally donning their shirts and pants. 

Tule Fog

Frazier Park

Mt Pinos and Company

I got up and walked around, finding the neon green register hiding under some metamorphic rocks. The booklet inside was brand new, just recently placed on July 20th, 2025. There were only a few entries since then, the most recent one signed February 1st of this year. We passed the booklet around, made our marks, and then decided to check out the northern side of the mountain. Descending a bit, we entered a patchy forest of Jeffery Pines, shooting for an opening that we thought would offer good views of the tule fog to the north. Alas, the views were just ok. Just saw much of what we had already seen. So we trudged on back to the summit, taking another few minutes to enjoy the day before heading back to the car. 

Headin' back...

Down, down, down, our faces burnt, our legs tired. We reached the junction, walked on down the single track. Found a large yucca branch. Took turns throwing it as far as we could. Daniel made a pit stop, Liam and I laid flat on our backs in the sun, our faces slowly transitioning from medium rare to medium well. And then we grouped up again and trucked on down to the car, started 'er up, rolled the windows down and screamed "Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound" all the way down the road. 

We tuned right, drove into PMC. Stopped at La Leña. Excellent food. Drove to Fern lake. Ain't no fish in there to be seen. And then we drove around town, no particular destination in mind. We pulled off the side of Freeman Drive and had an impromptu snowball fight that lasted longer than expected. And there was a steep hill and Daniel said, "I bet you can't carry me up that hill" and I said "yes I absolutely can, 100%" and he said "no you can't" and I said, "yes I can" and then he hopped on my back and I walked up the stupid hill all the way past the stupid stop sign and then collapsed on the stupid ground and Daniel laughed and I felt a simultaneous sense of accomplishment and regret. And then we all realized that we were dying of thirst so we drove on down to the General Store and got us some water and then we drove on out of there, off to the I-5, onto the 126, all the way back to Ventura.

And then Liam and I said goodby to Daniel for the moment and drove on over to the Downtown area where we met up with Nick and Bryan and a whole bunch of strangers for a running club. And of course we went wayy too fast and were soon drenched in sweat and my legs were crampin' and when we finished I was about done for the day And then we walked on up to Dargan's and met up with Daniel once again and had a few pints and that about ended the day. 

Friday was a rest day; didn't do nothin' stupid that would jack up my legs even more than they already were. And on Saturday I said goodbye to California and drove all the way into Utah to begin my new job. I've been training these past few days, gettin' to know the ropes and such. So far all has been well; nothin' but good weather and good folks and good times. Still trying to figure out what it is I'm gonna do on my days off. Whatever it is, I'll be sure to write about it.